


Too much and not enough.

by ilostmyothersock



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Eating Disorders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmyothersock/pseuds/ilostmyothersock
Summary: Nicky is having an anxious day. Joe and Andy are there.TW: anxiety, loss of appetite/disordered eating.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani & Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 12
Kudos: 174





	1. Part 1: Nicky

Nicky gripped the baking tray tighter to stop his hands from shaking. His heart was pounding, he was sweating, and no amount of slow, deep breaths he took seemed to relieve the tightness in his chest.

He put the tray down and shook his hands out briefly, trying to get them to relax. He cut the biscotti and turned it onto its side. Just a little bit longer in the oven.

He heard familiar footsteps coming up behind him before a nose brushed against the back of his neck. He fruitlessly tried to steady his breathing, even though he knew that there was no hiding this from Yusuf.

Sure enough, within moments Joe was brushing his hands gently over the tightness in his shoulders a few times before turning Nicky around to face him. There was a small furrow of concern on his brow.

“Nicky?”

Nicky gave him what he hoped was a convincing smile. “Should be done soon - your favourite.”

Joe reached up to tuck back some of Nicky’s hair behind his ear. It was getting long. “It is. Just in time for dinner too.”

Nicky blanched, pulling away. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. I just... I haven’t made dinner ye-” Joe pressed a kiss to his lips, cutting him off. He shook his head, searching his eyes before pressing another kiss to his nose.

“It’s alright, my love. Andy saw that you were busy baking so she went out to get dinner. The biscotti will be ready just in time for dessert.”

Nicky frowned. “Biscotti isn’t dessert, it-” Joe cut him off with another kiss.

“Shhh. For breakfast tomorrow then. Although I’m sure you won’t begrudge me sneaking a few as a late-night snack.”

Nicky blinked a few times. His brain was still spinning, and he was sure there was something to read in Joe’s gentle, slightly sad smile, but despite 900 years he just wasn’t getting there. Joe sighed before pulling him into a tight hug, running his fingers through his hair. “Breathe, my love.” Nicky nodded against his shoulder. “With me, in and out.” Nicky complied as well as he could, trying to match his shuddering breaths to Joe’s.

Joe reached down, taking Nicky’s hands in his and starting to run his thumbs in circles, trying to ease some of the tension. “Andy should be back soon. Shall we set the table?”

Nicky stared blankly at Joe for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes. Yes, we should. I-” He glanced helplessly around the kitchen. He knew how to do this. He could do this.

Joe pressed a kiss into his hair before pulling away. “I’ll get the dishes, you get the cutlery. Alright, love?”

Nicky nodded. He could do that.

\---

They had just finished setting the table and taking the biscotti out of the oven when Andy kicked the door shut behind her, shaking snow out of her hair. She gave Nicky a bright grin before making her way to the table, setting down the takeout and taking off her jacket.

“I got a little bit of everything, I wasn’t sure what you’d feel like.”

The real answer was _nothing_ , if Nicky was being honest, but he tried to smile gratefully at her. Her expression softened and she pressed her cold hands to his cheeks. On another day, perhaps, he might have swatted them away playfully, as she probably expected him to. As it was, he didn’t move, turning his focus to her icy palms on his face and trying to use the cold spots to ground himself. Her face softened impossibly further when he didn’t react, and she pulled him into a brief hug before stepping back.

“Pizza margherita, spaghetti aglio, olio, e pepperoncino, and focaccia genovese, and Gianna even had tiramisu left for dessert.”

Nicky knew that Andy knew that those were his favourites from the little Italian restaurant in town, but he couldn’t bring himself to feel excited about it. Instead, all he could think about was how his mouth tasted strange and how his throat felt tight. Still, he thanked Andy, giving her a tight smile. He appreciated her effort. She didn’t have to go out.

She _shouldn’t_ have gone out. It was snowing, it was cold, and he should have started dinner hours ago. Instead he had started mindlessly baking biscotti, desperately wanting something to do with his hands. He should have made real dinner instead, he had the ingredients, he shouldn’t have lost track of time, he should have -

Andy was rubbing soothing circles on his face with her hand, looking at him and waiting for his eyes to focus back on her. When they did, she took his hand and led him to the table, ushering him into his seat. Joe had opened the takeout dishes in the meantime. Nicky looked at them helplessly.

Saying nothing, Andy and Joe sat down at the table and started serving themselves. When it became clear that Nicky wasn’t going to take any for himself, Joe casually reached across for his plate, and served him small portions of everything, setting his dinner in front of him.

Nicky took a deep breath, staring down at it. Joe and Andy were eating, pretending to focus on their conversation as he tried to muster up the energy to eat. When he caught Joe’s eyes flitting worriedly to him, he picked up the fork, trying to smile reassuringly. Joe nudged his knee gently with his own before launching into an enthusiastic retelling of a recent football match.

Nicky tried to track the conversation as it shifted from football to travel to languages to art. Joe (probably purposefully, because Nicky knew his Yusuf) was sticking to light-hearted topics.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to contribute meaningfully to the conversation, and he couldn’t bring himself to do more than move his food around his plate. His stomach hurt. He watched as Andy and Joe finished their dinner, determinedly keeping the conversation going despite his silence, while his own meal went cold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snuggles, biscotti, and art. Really there’s no plot here, Nicky is anxious and Andy and Joe are soft.

After Nicky had finally given up on trying to eat his dinner, giving Andy a brief shake of his head at her imploring look he got up and started to clean. Joe pulled his plate from his hands with a kiss to his temple before ushering him toward the stairs, directing him to the room that they were sharing before turning to head back to the kitchen.

Not bothering to turn the light on he pulled the covers back and tucked himself into bed, shutting his eyes and hoping that his heart could stop pounding. He wanted to sleep but was too wired to, so he settled for pulling the covers over his head and trying breathe slowly.

From his cocoon he heard the door open and click shut, footsteps that he knew were Andy’s padding across the room to the bed. There was the sound of mugs being put down on the bedside table, the drawer opening, the soft taps of coasters being put down, and clinks as the mugs were picked up and replaced. He knew that there was no reason to pretend in front of Andy, but he still felt compelled to try to give her a tight smile as she pulled the covers back from over his face, sliding her legs under the quilt to sit next to him.

She ran her thumb gently over his forehead, smoothing out the tense creases there before dragging his pillow, and his head with it, onto her lap.

“Tea?” she asked, running her fingers through his hair. He shook his head, closing his eyes and trying to let the repetitive motion of her hands calm him. He both had energy he didn’t know what to do with and yet didn’t have it in him to move.

“If you want to go for a late-night, snowy run, or if you think you could stomach something different to eat, or if even if you just _want_ something different to eat, you just have to say, you know that, right?” He nodded against the pillow as she continued to play with his hair. She smiled down at him. “Yeah, I know you know. Thought I’d say it anyway.”

He nodded, turning his focus back to her hands in his hair. She paused briefly, reaching over to pick up her own cup of tea before resuming with her free hand. “You sure you don’t want any? It’s black tea with lemon in it.” He shook his head again and she hummed, going silent.

A few minutes later there was the sound of scuffling at the door before it opened and Joe walked in, awkwardly juggling another mug of tea, a plate of biscotti, a bag, and several sketchbooks. As he made his way to the bed Andy quickly put down her own mug to take the dishes from him, putting them down on the bedside table. He smiled gratefully at her before dropping the sketchbooks and bag unceremoniously onto the bed and grinning at Nicky, who blinked up at him confusedly.

“We’re making art!”

Nicky smiled softly. “What are you drawing?”

Joe grinned impossibly wider. “No, no, Nico, _we_ are making art!”

Nicky frowned slightly. “We?”

Joe sat down on the bed before turning the bag upside down and dumping out a collection of markers. “Sit up! It’ll be fun!”

Nicky raised a skeptical eyebrow but pushed himself up, allowing Andy to pull him tightly to her side when he was seated. Joe handed him a sketchbook and a marker before reaching over to pull the plate of biscotti onto the bed. Tentatively, Nicky opened the sketchbook to the first blank page.

“But... Joe, I can’t draw, you know that.”

Joe leaned over to tuck Nicky’s hair behind his ear.

“ _Anyone_ can draw, my love. But it’s okay if you don’t want to - here!” He flipped through the sketchbook on Nicky’s lap before settling on a page. On it was an intricate mosaic outlined in black ink. Nicky stared at it blankly.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It needs colour, Nico!”

Nicky blinked. “But you drew it...”

Joe beamed, nudging the pile of markers closer to Nicky. “Yes, I drew it, but now _you_ can add some colour to it!”

“But I can’t draw...”

Joe shook his head fondly. “My heart, you don’t _need_ to draw. You just need to colour it in!” Nicky blanched, and for a moment Joe’s smile dropped, worry taking over his face.

“I’ll wreck it,” Nicky said sadly.

Joe’s face softened. “Never, my love. A splash of colour will only make it more lovely.”

Nicky shook his head frantically, “No, no, I’ll ruin it completely. Joe, you spent so much time on this and -” Joe cut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips.

“ _Nicolò_ , I made it for _you_. I thought it might be something we might try in... in times like these. There are more of them!” He flipped through the other sketchbooks in turn, opening each to a page covered in elaborate geometric patterns.

“But -”

“ _I’ll start_ ,” Andy announced, reaching across to pick up a blue marker. She uncapped it and, turning to the sketchbook on Nicky’s lap, reached over to add a splash of blue to one of the outlined shapes.

Joe grinned, picking up a pale green, uncapping it, and reaching over to add to it himself. “I like this one because it’s as close as I have ever found in a marker to the striking shade of your eyes, my love.”

Andy rolled her eyes, biting back a fond smile as she reached across for another marker, uncapping it and adding some purple to the picture. Nicky hesitated a moment more, but then uncapped his own marker and leaned down to carefully fill a small square in with green.

They continued in silence, all adding to the image in turns, until Nicky seemed to find a rhythm in filling in the blank spaces with ink. At one point Joe got up to reheat their tea, and when he returned Nicky was bent over the sketchbook, focused intently as he continued to fill the page. Andy had picked up a different sketchbook and was absent-mindedly colouring it herself, leaving Nicky to his own page.

Joe handed her the mug of tea, and picked up a piece of biscotti from the table, dipping it into his own. He sighed in contentment as he ate, the sight of Nicky working fastidiously filling him with warmth and relief.


End file.
